Devil His Due
by KinReynard
Summary: When an archivist brings an old book back to the Vatican, he unwittingly unleashes a chain of events that beg the Vatican to remember... The Methuselah aren't the only monsters they have to fear.
1. In Which A Demon Appears

AN: You all know the drill when it comes to fanfics so let me be frank and fast with this AN section for the sake of brevity. I do not own Trinity Blood, otherwise I wouldn't be writing fanfics, though the OC and the mythology behind him are all mine… Sorta. You'll see what I mean.

"Oh of all the dumb things!!" Abel muttered under his breath while stalking down the halls of the Vatican late one night. He had forgotten to grab a book to read and now it was too late and the infernal librarian was so old his bedtime was practically at noon. Still it was worth the chance to visit and see if he was up. While he as at it he might as well see if the Holy Grail would decide to show itself or maybe Jesus would come back from the dead. After all, the chances were about the same. Turning down one last corner he stared at the doors in disbelief; they were open and lights could be seen flickering from inside. Stepping into the large entry he knocked on the door as he passed by its mahogany frame, now more than a bit spooked. Not that there was much to be afraid of from the librarian but IF the lord and savior decided to present himself well… his heart might not be able to take it. His entrance was announced effectively and somewhere from the labyrinthine bowels of the library and archives there was the sound of movement.

"OH! HellOH DAMN!"A voice called out in a strained greeting before there was a loud crashing noise and the sound of body hitting the floor. With the same amount of commotion a man stumbled into view. His clothes were wrinkled and a tie was loose around his pencil neck but otherwise was dressed liked the elder librarian at the Vatican.

"Are you… alright? What happened?" Abel adjusted his glasses, cursing the dim lighting as he squinted to see what this man looked like. He hadn't seen him around the Vatican before and even though he didn't seem like a threat… well, he was wary. The figure was brushing off his battered suit, and a sizable tear could be seen near the shoulder stitching revealing his off-white oxford shirt below.

"I fell! Clumsy me, clumsy clumsy clumsy," he muttered, clicking his tongue in the disapproving manner of a schoolmarm. Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and jacket his skin seemed ghostly pale in the lighting and dark bruises could be seen. Obviously he was no stranger to the odd accident. "I was caught off guard, do you need a book?" He asked with an apologetic smile on his gaunt face.

"Uh… Yes, actually. Are you new here?" Abel pulled the first book he could find off the shelf and began to flick it open. Immediately he was barraged with a medley of scientific words, none under eight syllables. As the man answered, Abel discreetly slipped it back into its rightful place.

"Oh! Yes, yes indeed, I was just recently admitted here" the man smiled at him. The large lenses on his face were so thick they distorted his eyes. In fact, his all over appearance was owlish, the great twin moons of his glasses seeming to glow as he fidgeted with them. "I suppose my manners failed me, I have yet to introduce myself," he ran his thumbs down the lining of his plucky tweed jacket and then finally stopped. "You can simply call me Ulysses Delacroix."

"Ah! The pleasure is all mine! I'm-" Abel quickly stuck out his own hand, but his introduction was interrupted.

"And yes, you're Nightroad eh?" he sighed and pushed up his glasses. "Feel free to browse the shelves but I can't keep you company. I must attend to my work. You know what they say; idle hands are the devil's playthings!" He dusted off his own; they were thin and bony, entirely sharp angles and big joints.

"Oh! Of course! Don't mind me!" Abel gave a silly smile, wandering off through the shelves as the young librarian now called Ulysses went on with his work, humming an old hymn under his breath.

"What a strange young man…" Abel mused to himself, smiling slightly. It wasn't until 18 books later (With only one book being a success) two courtyards, three left turns and one wrong turn later, did it dawn on Abel. "How did he know my name?" He shrugged it off. It mattered little. The man had probably studied up on the records like a good little archivist. Never-the-less, he stored this tidbit away for later thought, though he doubted Ulysses would prove to be a threat. In the meantime he smiled in a pleased sort of manner. The library was open late for once. If things kept up like this he might never get to sleep…

It wasn't until after three glorious nights of reading and the subsequent lack of sleep that the toll began to show on Abel. Despite the fact that he sat with the Duchess of Milan for tea and a briefing his mind was elsewhere, most likely trying to escape back into his dreams. Watching him carefully the Duchess sighed. Even though she was concerned there was also the expression of motherly condescending that only she could have with him. Waking himself up with a jerk Abel realized just what he had done and sighed. Stirring the sugary sludge of a drink that was once a decent cup of tea, he began to try and explain his behavior.

"I know now, there really IS too much of a good thing," he moaned, his silver hair falling in curtains around his face and onto the small table as his forehead drew ever closer to the tabletop. The laugh that followed from Sister Caterina was as bright and light as soap bubbles and filled with curiosity.

"And what brought around this divine epiphany?" she coyly asked, tracing her fingers around the gold filigree of the thin fine bone china.

"The library. It's open late… but now… I'm too busy reading to get any sleep," he gave her a pitiful stare and a small smile but it was met with a look of confusion.

"What on earth do you mean? Has that senile old man decided to keep it open later now? What prompted that??" she wondered while sipping the tea politely, one pinky hovering just out of the small loop that the rest of her slender hand grasped with utmost delicacy.

"Huh? The new librarian… he's been keeping it open later," Abel explained, waving it off smoothly with his hand smiling at the Duchess before he noticed the surprise on her face and the expression dropped. "Why… what's the matter?"

"I don't recall hearing any news of a new employee…" she muttered, painted red lips pursing together in frustration. "TRES." She called out to the door and not soon after the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard outside.

There was a small pause before the clean cut face Tres Iqus could be seen through the door as he stepped into the room as commanded. Standing firmly at attention, his sights were trained on her, waiting for an order.

"Yes, Duchess?" his dull mechanical voice inquired.

"Check the records to see if we have a new hire…" she paused and glanced at Abel, "Did you manage to get a name?"

"Ah! Yes I did!" Abel turned his gaze to Tres, "Ulysses Delacroix."

"Right, run a search for any employee under that name then report to me immediately," she ordered sharply, the entire situation making her feel rather nervous. It wasn't like the Vatican to let such a dire security breach occur, but it also wouldn't be the first time. Of course, if breach was going to be as serious as the last one Caterina found herself wondering if they had enough manpower to survive again unscathed. To pass the time while the Battle Doll ran his search, and to ease her own nerves, she glanced at Abel.

"What can you tell me about this man?"

"Not much… I should have realized sooner…" he sighed, shaking his head and adjusting his glasses. "He hardly seemed like a threat. There was no sign of him being anything but human."

"Hm… For you to say that makes this predicament all the more vexing," she sighed before glancing over at Tres, who had turned his gaze back to them.

"Negative on Ulysses Delacroix. No records showing a man with that name working here nor has the Vatican hired anybody within the last month," he reported dryly, "Orders?"

"Yes. Come with us and send a pre-emptive alert to AX member on staff. I don't want them charging in guns blazing but if we need back-up I want them there. We have a possible breach of security," The Duchess stood quickly in a flurry of fabric before glancing out the window at the setting sun, "Abel, you said this man worked during the night, correct?"

"Yes," he stood as well, and rather quickly, his body tense in worry over the idea of an enemy in the very walls so many called home. What was more pressing about the matter was that this person had access to the archives and the priceless records on every AX member.

"Let us see if he shows up tonight," she proclaimed while glancing quickly at the setting sun from the gaps in her veranda. With an anxious haste they made their way down to the library. Sure enough the lights flickered from inside and cautiously Abel pushed open the door before clearing his throat and stepping inside. While he appeared calm and placid he could feel his heartbeat radiating up into this throat. It would be best not to alert whoever this man was to their true intentions.

"Mr. Delacroix?" he asked timidly and was surprised to hear the man respond.

"Is that you, sir?"

Walking amiably into view was the librarian and his eyes grew wide in surprise at seeing Abel's company. Bowing his head to the Duchess he swept his arm through the air and to his waist in a gentlemanly bow before speaking again.

"I was not expecting company outside of you, sir, forgive me dearest Lady," his voice trembled nervously before he stood and smiled. "Are you looking for a book as well? I know Mr. Nightroad has appreciated my late night services."

"Yes, he was just telling me how grateful he was for me hiring you," Caterina explained, narrowing her eyes at the thin man before them, testing him. She wondered how long his composure could last before he'd reveal himself for a spy or the like.

"Ah, I'm quite pleased to be of help," Ulysses bowed slightly before clapping his bony hands together and giving a small smile. "What type of books do you like to read? Perhaps I can be of help." Brushing his battered clothes off, he acted sheepish at having been caught off guard in front of such an important person. He did all this while ignoring Tres casually.

"I was wondering if you could refresh my memory," she stated, arms crossed at her slim waist as she awaited some sort of reaction. Instead of panicking or trying to escape he simply stopped his fussing, his bemused expression remaining plastered onto his face.

"Of course, that is what an archivist is good for. What can I help you with?" he asked as he walked to the large oak counter that held all the archive lists and book registry.

"How did we hire you into our services?" At this point Caterina had decided to cut directly to the point as she could hear the faint footsteps of AX officers arriving in the hall outside. With the reaffirmation of back-up she felt her courage growing. Though the bookish man didn't skip a beat he did pause for a second and tilt his head, almost as if noticing the commotion outside before the ever pleasant smile affixed itself to his face once more.

"Oh? Shouldn't the leader of the AX know??" he replied slyly, "I surmise you aren't here for the books, then… but might I recommend one?" Reaching below the counter, he kept his gaze trained on them.

"My memory must have slipped on you. Please refresh it," Caterina replied, ignoring the man's suggestion. Her voice grew cold as Abel and Tres slowly began to reach for their weapons, nervous as to just _what_ the man was reaching under the counter for. Despite this she felt no fear as she the utmost faith in their ability to protect her, when push came to shove.

"…" With a free hand Ulysses removed his glasses casually before leveling his eyes with her. Without the thick glass to hide them they were dull and dead and Caterina found herself wishing he would replace his spectacles, if only to be spared the dark lifeless gaze. "Why, I was brought here by your archivist himself; though he'd hardly recognize me now, for what it's worth."

Sliding out from behind the countertop he gave a slow grin, pushing his glasses back onto his face. Pausing, he pointed at the men behind the massive skirt of the Duchess and pulled an innocent pout.

"Do you not trust me? I hardly mean you any harm," he said as he stood before the three, appearing harmless with his awkward gait and hunched posture.

"I believe statements like that when I see them, and you've given me no reason to trust you, nor give us any proof in your pacifism," she shot back and Ulysses paused, his smile sliding from his face like water off wax.

"But I do not lie, nor do any of my brothers. I have said only the truth since you came here. Go ahead, ask me any question and I will tell you no lies," he replied earnestly, hands clasped together as if in prayer as he moved one step closer.

"I have asked questions, and you've given me no answers," Caterina stood her ground as the young archivist drew nearer.

"At least tell us who hired you," Abel insisted, eager to avoid the violence that might occur should the intruder prove to be volatile.

"About that small detail, nobody here hired me, correct? I was brought here by the archivist and assumed these duties to pass the time," he rubbed his thin hands together to warm the stiff joints.

"Then if you are truthful, tell me… are you here to harm me?" the Duchess stared the skeletal archivist before her down her chin tilted up and calm stare impervious to his delicate portrayal.

"Hardly, dear lady, hardly. I've been nothing but the gentleman and you treat me with distrust?" he asked indignantly, back almost straightening before it slowly moved back into its scholarly arch. "If I had come here to harm you would I really waste time befriending your Nightroad or shelving these books?" pausing for a chuckle, he continued after clearing his throat, "So to answer your question, no… I am not here to harm you."

There was a pause between the three. Despite the reassuring tone he took when reminding them that he wouldn't hurt Caterina there was the subtle taint of a veiled threat that only made them even more uneasy. He seemed sure of himself, though the fact was hidden and for a second he didn't appear the frail librarian, but as something far darker. This feeling tainted the way they viewed him, as though he was just the front for something far larger. It was Abel who finally spoke.

"Then what are you here for? To threaten the Duchess? To spy on the AX??" he demanded, standing firm as to guard Caterina as his expression sharpened to steel.

"To remind you and to perhaps make an offer of a lifetime, if you play your cards right," Ulysses explained, spreading his hands apart palms up as a show of good faith and peace.

"Remind us of what, pray tell?" Caterina demanded, not asked, as she took one step forward and took pleasure realizing that the young man before her took one step back.

"Of things forgotten that shouldn't have been," he explained plainly.In the dim light of the room shadows had begun to take a life of their own moving and flickering, dancing in the corners of the AX member's vision

"Speak plainly," Caterina ordered, taking another step forward at the man who stood his ground this time and sighed removing his glasses and again. Methodically folding the legs against the lenses he placed them on the countertop of the library desk and sighed.

"If the lady insists so, how can I deny?" he mused to himself, before leaning back against the desk, his back straightening out as he pushed his ratty hair out of his face. "All of this… all the Vatican all up in arms… for what? Vampires? HAH!!" he spat, his demeanor melting from meek bookworm to something far more arrogant in mere seconds. "Oh… pardon me. They prefer to be called Methuselah, don't they? Are you bible toting militants really okay with them claiming that name?? Wasn't that a name of a holy figure??" he asked, dull eyes mocking them with their emotionless stare.

"Oh but humans always do that. They focus on newest thing… the newest fad… the newest danger, forgetting the old ways," he mused, shaking his head when his monologue was stopped by Caterina.

"So you don't count yourself as human or Methuselah?" she inquired, only to hear Tres's voice for the first time since they entered the room.

"Negative, all readings on Ulysses Delacroix are of the human nature," he informed them curtly, causing a small smile to appear on Caterina's painted lips.

"So explain that, Mr. Delacroix?" she challenged, arms crossed, her sleeves dovetailing around her elbows and opening to opulent layers Chantilly lace.

"Oh? Of course I read as human to that… thing… would you like me to change that? I hardly fit in Ulysses at any rate," he explained, smiling at their quizzical faces. Closing his eyes he gave a deep sigh and immediately a surprised expression barely flitted across Tres' face.

"All vital signs for Ulysses Delacroix have ceased functioning," he informed the group. Glancing to the battle doll in surprise, the moment Caterina looked away she heard the sound of a body hitting the floor. Snapping her head back, her eyes grew wide. The archivist was dead on the floor, and a black viscous mass was flowing from his eyes and mouth. Slowly the darkness took the shape of a man and then a face was seen in the pitch black mass with skin as pale as frosted glass.

"Isn't it better to remove all pretenses?" he asked, opening eyes that were as pale as glacial ice. A hand appeared as though pulled out from a pocket and pushed some of the dark mass from the man's face, now revealed to be wavy black hair. Stepping out from the shadow and away from the corpse, it appeared as the archivist though now leaner, less bony, but still achingly delicate. "I was brought to the Vatican sealed in a book, you see, that was picked up by that silly old librarian of yours. Once inside the Vatican the bonds that held me… they weakened enough for me to break them."

Dressed plainly in slacks and half buttoned shirt, both black, he almost melded with the shadows around him before they dissipated, rushing to block the entry way.

"Did you plan on trapping us here?" Abel asked, taking a step forward to stand to the front of the Duchess, as Tres followed suit,

"Again, you overestimate me. I simply don't want any interruptions after I went to such lengths to get an audience with the Duchess of Milan herself…" he bowed mockingly before brushing off his hands and retrieving a large leather tome from behind the library counter. "Now wheeeeere was I? Oh... that's right. HUMANS! Always forgetting the old toy when the new one arrives, so very much like spoiled little children. The Vatican once fought against something far darker than mere Methuselah back in the days when the pope wasn't a spoiled child. Now I finally wake from my bonds to find…this?? Little blood suckers running rampant, battle dolls and guns?? It seems Armageddon wasn't enough to end you fools." Shaking his head he tossed the book at the Duchess, though it was caught by Abel who checked it before handing it to her.

"I might as well have stayed silent and asleep if THIS is what I am to wake to…" he ranted, taking to pacing the marble in disgust. It was when he turned his head that Caterina noticed something unusual. Growing from his forehead were slender black horns, slightly ridged and angling from his scalp to five inches past his head straight back. Pausing, she glanced down at the book she had been tossed. Its title had long since worn off, leaving only tattered leather, but upon opening its pages she saw a language she didn't recognize, but pictures that she did. They were gruesome, violent things, woodcut prints of men summoning demons, of souls being eaten and of women bathing naked in pools of blood. Glancing up she pursed her lips. Despite the growing speed of her heartbeat she felt calm.

"You mean to tell me you're a demon?" she asked, scoffing the very idea.

"Don't believe me??" he asked, turning to glance at her before shaking his head once more. "Of course you don't. My kind was hunted down by the Vatican or went into hiding, and those of us that couldn't be killed were simply sealed away…"

"So then, you're supposed to be one of the stronger ones??" Caterina replied, flipping through each page of thick parchment before stopping on one. The picture showed a mass of shadows with a pale face staring out; black horns and shark like teeth embellished the evil nature of the creature. Glancing between the man before her and the picture, she cleared her throat. "What is your name… creature?"

"If I give you my name, it means there is a contract… so if you reeeeally want to know it I suppose you could take me on," he mused, "You can call me Delacroix if you so desire a name without binding yourself to me.."

"You didn't answer my previous question."

"… Yes. I am one of the Four. I was bound by a saint of yours to that book after a foolish scholar summoned me. Mid ritual too… a shame. I kept his body though, I thought might be of use," he pushed himself up to take a seat on the countertop and smiled softly. "You have plenty of questions, as what I would expect of a woman like you…" Delacroix's eyes roamed over her hungrily, "… I always did prefer women with a backbone."

"I'm too much for you," she shot back, standing firm. "Now where did you get that corpse?"

"This old thing? Sealed away with me, Ulysses was going to be one of my contract holders before it all fell through. I have you Vatican dogs to thank for that I suppose," he explained, glancing disdainfully at the body, "I don't know how you humans can stand such a gauche thing like that…"

There was a pause as Caterina glanced over the page in the book with the imprinted likeness of the creature before her. Though she couldn't read any of the text, she knew that somebody else in the AX probably could. Then again she also knew she was for all intensive purposes trapped in the library with said creature that was now effectively blocking the door. Glancing to Tres, she knew he was ready to enter genocide mode the moment the creature made a threatening move and took solace in it and returned to the page.

"You can't think you'll escape this," Abel stated, looking at the man warily as he sat on the library countertop, legs kicking out into the air as he stared at the corpse on the floor. "You're surrounded. The moment you drop that barrier, the AX will attack you to protect the Duchess."

"Well, you're AX, you and your china doll there and you haven't attacked yet have you?" Delacroix replied calmly, ignoring the technical quip from Tres about his classification as Battle Doll, not as some girl's toy. Inspecting his pitch black talons, the creature sat before the three in a pleased manner as he glanced at them with his cold eyes, daring them to contradict his statement; or better yet, to attack.

"You haven't tried to assault me," Caterina explained blithely, waving it off with one lace gloved hand. "But the men and women outside won't know that."

"Hm… I suppose I only promised not attack you three," he cupped his chin thoughtfully, "It's been awhile since I last fought but I could probably handle your AX…"

"You will do nothing of the sort, fiend," Caterina immediately barked, making the man give a small smile.

"Did I tell you already that you remind me of my younger brother? He had a lot of spirit, just like you…" he mused.

"And what about you? Not the spirited type?" she bantered back, carefully fidgeting with her golden curls.

"I was always more the cruel type. Spirit is meant to be broken, dear," he replied blandly, pushing himself off the counter. "As it were, my job here is not quite done."

"Oh?? Then what else do you have to do?? Can it involve letting us go? You have hardly been the gracious host, keeping us here against our wills."

"Oooh hardly. As I was reading through all your archives I realized that I for once have something in common with the Vatican."

"Mmmhmm?"

"You're tone hardly sounds convinced… but regardless of that, let me explain. I've been sealed for so long that the era of demons has passed. Most of my weaker brethren were killed off by your predecessors, those moderate demons just went into hiding and all the noble clans were sealed off, like me. I'm just some old antiquity of long forgotten horror and lore," he explained, holding up a finger as if pointing to a lesson on a chalk board. "Now these new monsters, these Methuselah, are running around unabated. I like what you guys are doing… I like what the Inquisition is doing more but if I went to them with this proposal… well. I'd be dead now."

There was a nod of general consensus from the two of the three not programmed with ones and zeroes before they waited for Delacroix to get everything out of his system.

"Besides, I didn't survive this long unscathed by mindlessly killing humans. I coexisted… and all I want to do is exist peacefully with humans _and _these silly Methuselah, and… to punish those who don't. So how about this: You can take me into custody to appease those bloodthirsty people just outside that barrier and door. Then, let me try to join your ranks," Caterina opened her mouth to protest but was silenced at Delacroix held up a hand and continued, "I've seen what you hire here. A demon such as me should almost be considered tame."

"Almost," she interjected, before once more the creature spoke up.

"Never-the-less… if you'd feel safer I suppose you can always bind me to someone," he added, almost brightly as he stepped closer to them.

"So go ahead, tie me up or whatever is you AX do. Put me in cell, if you must, but…" he placed a pale hand on the page that Caterina still had open in the book and smiled at her. Under his palm the ink wigged and danced until it was printed in plain English, though the font was still extravagant. "But just read what the old monks have to say about me. Who wouldn't want that on their side?? And if you don't hire me I'm sure the other side might just have loose enough morals to use me to my full extent."

Seconds passed like hours as he locked eyes with Duchess before there was a small smile on her face, immediately complemented by an equal one on his. Glancing over at Abel, she nodded her head.

"Take Mr. Delacroix here into custody. I will have The Professor analyze all records… if you are truly as beneficial as you say you are, sir… then we will indeed bring you into our ranks. BUT, if these are just cool lies given by a honey tongued monster, then you will find yourself sealed back into these pages," with a snap, she closed the book in front of his face as he gave a small grin. With a wave of his hand, the corpse of Ulysses disappeared in black flame. A split second later Abel pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Obligingly Delacroix held out his wrists and winced as the steel twisted closed to his wrists.

"Ouch, careful. I bruise easily," he pouted. Noticing the group had taken to staring at him expectantly, he sighed, "Oh very well. I don't know what you guys are so anxious about. I was having a lovely time, with lovely company." With the sound of dark wings beating the air, the shadow that blocked the door disappeared back into the shadows then raced back to Delacroix, assuming a fiendish shadow that flickered and moved of it's own accord under his feet, consuming the body of the dead archivist like hungry dogs.

With an unholy clatter the doors were busted open and AX members flooded inside full of bravado and, as soon as they saw Delacroix, very confused questions. Holding up a hand for silence, Caterina explained the situation.

"Return to your duties, this situation is under control," she announced. As the crowd dissipated, she paused and glanced to Abel. "Place Delacroix here into a waiting cell. I will have The Professor analyze this book."

"And if you like what you see??" Delacroix asked bemusedly as he resisted leaving the room to hear her answer. He wasn't disappointed as she instead took to walking past him, giving him only the barest sideways glance.

"Then you might have a deal, Delacroix."

Chuckling to himself, he caved in as Abel led him away to a bare waiting cell. Giving the melancholy man a long once-over glance, he gave a dark smile and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Hey… do YOU wanna make a contract??" he asked slyly but there was no response. Pouting, he sighed and glanced up at the painted ceilings of the Vatican as they walked past, "I'd grant a wish. How about that?? Annnything you want just make a contract and give me an order."

The man stopped for a second and Delacroix grinned triumphantly. That is, until he spoke.

"In this line of work you understand better than anyone that power doesn't grant wishes," he stated, giving the man a bored stare over the rims of his glasses. With that he started walking again, determined to lead Delacroix away before the man could irk him any more than he already had. Leading him down to the temporary holding cells under the Vatican, he paused. The man was grinning like a loon as he walked into the cell.

"I like you," he stated as he ambled over to the bed in the room and sat down on. "I read your file," he admitted, "Pretty depressing stuff. And trust me; I've seen the worst of the worst."

There was a stony silence with a cold stare to match in response making Delacroix mime a shiver before stretching out on the bed of the cell as Abel walked away. Oh he could be patient; he could wait until they deliberated his fate. Staring up at the dank ceiling he grinned to himself.

"_Tiiiime_.. _is on my side_…" he sang to himself, "_Oh yes it is_…."

AN: Thanks for reading through my first chapter for this fanfiction, I hope you enjoyed (and might even review). All in all it is a good experience to be writing again, especially under my new pen name. For those who don't know, I was previously the writer Trenity170. I hope to see you in my next chapter!

-Affably yours

KinReynard

P.S. Brownie Points if you know what movie I reference in the end of his fanfic.


	2. In Which Esther Is Tricked

-As usual, thank you to all the people reading this fic. Hopefully there will be some more explanation for you. I apologize for the slow posting of these chapters I fell down a flight of stairs and sustained permanent nerve damage to my right arm. I appreciate the patience of my beta reader SMCandy and all of you who track my fic. I do not own Trinity Blood, people, use your brain. Enjoy!

Dawn was rising as William Wordsworth was shaken from his sleep by a loud rapping noise on his door. Sitting up, groggy as he had stayed up late that night working on yet another doomed to fail invention, he pulled on his dressing robe and shuffled to the door.

"What on earth do you need!?" he demanded before pausing and realizing just who it was he was speaking to. Instead of some insolent child or idiotic delivery man he found himself staring at Caterina in her full glory. Without so much as a hello she stepped into his modest room and office space and handed him a book which he took, confused.

"What on earth is going on!?" he demanded as he stared down at the thick tome he had been presented with. Placing it on his desk it fell open to a page written entirely in English and glanced over his shoulder at her. "What is this??"

"There's been a security breach, Walter," Caterina sighed, removing the slender gloves from her hands, "And I need your help with how to deal with it."

"Hmm??" reaching behind his desk he pulled out a pair of reading glasses and sat down in front of the book. Running his hand over the page, he frowned. "Why have you brought me a book chronicling demons??"

"We've captured one," she explained as she rotated her neck slowly to ease the tension. "At least, that's what I think happened."

"You think?? It's rare to find you for a loss of words or memory," William teased as he flicked through the pages occasionally grimacing. "This is really a nasty little book. Care to explain HOW you've found a demon?? Aren't they simply a monster under the bed type of creature?"

"We used to think the same thing of the Methuselah," she replied tersely as she seated herself into the only chair in the room, a studious leather thing with brass brads.

"Is there a reason why only one page is in English?"

"The creature we have in custody made it so," Caterina explained, waiting for the confused look to cross her friend's face. She was not disappointed as he paused and glanced at her perplexedly. "He placed a hand upon the page and the words changed themselves to English."

"…" There was hardly a response from William as he moved back to read the page, "So then, the creature you captured is the one on the page, correct?"

"Yes, that is what he claims, what does it say about him?"

Another pause passed before the refined gentleman cleared his throat.

"His true name is not listed here, but it is said that the name the early religions gave him was Mammon or Astaroth. A creature of avarice, greed and wrath. He is from the first Hierarchy of hell, a Prince," he explained calmly, "He is the inquisitor and the smartest of the Four Great Brothers. He devours the souls of the greedy and lazy."

Heavy silence filled the room before Caterina cleared her throat, glancing at William. Pulling the thin gloves off her hands she settled in for a long stay, knowing that they would have to talk the issue over. Groaning, William turned his chair to face the Duchess.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time??" he chided. Slowly, Caterina began to explain the events of the night, of the dead body of Ulysses, of the creature calling itself Delacroix and of the deal it offered. Once the story was done the two shared a dark stare. Crossing her arms over her chest, Caterina heaved a great sigh.

"The real problem we face is whether or not to accept this… monster," she sighed, rubbing her temples as she felt a headache start its insistent throb.

"Better the devil at your door than the one you don't know," William recanted as he turned back to the book. Knowing the question that would come in a second he spoke up again, "Perhaps it would be best to keep this devil for ourselves, so that we know who perpetrates his tricks. If we let this weapon be handed to our enemies, we only have our stupidity to blame when it strike us."

"…" There was a heavy sigh from Caterina ran a hand down her pale face. "I admit that the idea of letting something as dangerous as a…demon… find its way into our enemy's hands is terrifying. But there is little other alternative."

"So then you'd willingly bind someone to that monster?" William asked in a mock astonished tone. Already annoyed from lack of sleep, and her mood hardly improved from having to deal with Delacroix, Caterina snapped back at him.

"I don't like the idea any more than you but we hardly have a choice… out of curiosity… what would be the repercussions of signing one of our AX men up to Delacoix?"

"Well… that's where the book gets iffy. If you want me to put in layman's terms… it would 'results may vary'," he sighed. His shoulders slumped with a decided exhaustion as he closed the book and turned to face the Duchess. Deep in thought, she looked older than she was as wrinkles generated between her plucked brows and at the corners of her painted mouth.

"Result may vary?" she echoed and he nodded.

"It ranges from the person's body and soul being consumed to the person being eternally damned to walk the earth as a specter," he shrugged.

"So nothing too terrible?" she drawled sarcastically. With a large sigh her shoulders collapsed under the weight of her stress before she stood. "Get some rest. Tomorrow morning we will be deliberating what to do with the members present during the discovery of this… monster."

"You expect me to sleep after reading this?" he gave a well meaning laugh before nodding and giving her a small wave as he ambled back to his bed…

The world seemed heavier and grayer to Caterina as she slowly made her way back to her room. Though there were still enough hours in the day for at least a small rest, she knew the sun would arrive on the horizon faster than she would have liked. Slowly, she peeled off her gloves, then her bodice and her skirt. One by one she discarded her ornate outfit for the more sensible silk nightgown. Lying out on her bed she stared up at the velvet draped on the canopy.

Sleep didn't come to her, instead only unbidden thoughts. It would not be an easy task to ask one of her trusted men to take on the burden of such a creature as Delacroix but she had little other oprions. A small part of her wished to take him on herself but she knew that without her, the AX would stand little chance against her brother's machinations. Frustration grew and she sat up quickly, tossing one of her pillows across the room in a fit of frustration. Falling back onto the mattress, she closed her eyes, willing herself to a restless sleep.

Her dream played out like some horrible Faustian play. Every shadow seemed to hold Delacroix, his face reflecting at her with a nasty grin on his face. No matter where she turned he waited, a pen in one hand, a contract in the other. He whispered nasty little nothings and empty promises at every turn as he slowly climbed over her. Hot breath with the taint of sulfur washed over her and she tried to recoil but found herself pinned to the floor. Slowly she felt the searing heat as he ran a tongue up from her collarbones and along the tendons of her neck, the journey stopped at her ear. _You will be mine… I will ravage your soul and break that spirit of yours… _his voice rasps as she felt her skin flush and sweat. Pale lips parted to reveal vicious teeth and as they bore down on her chest… then she woke up, sitting straight and coated in a cold sweat. The morning sun was just beginning its blazing journey and despite the light it gave, it offered little solace to her. Sighing, she placed a hand over her heart and shook her head.

"Just a dream," she reminded herself, as she swung her legs over the bed. She would brief the men involved on the problem and then… they'd decide who would take on Delacroix. The thought followed her like a thick fog of dread as she moved to the bathroom. There was little time for contemplation as she bathed and dressed and by the time she was presentable again she had steeled her resolve. Though her hands trembled she opened the doors to her room confidently to find Tres waiting for her as usual. Giving him a nod of the head she cleared her throat and spoke with a voice as professional as ever.

"Tres, gather everybody who was present last night and William. We will need to discuss the situation that ocurred…" she paused, "… For that matter, fetch Delacroix. Have him wait outside while we discuss. I don't want him trying any trick on us."

There was a pause before Tres spoke, as though he was debating what to say next. "Affirmative."

Soon she found herself alone again. Though it was hardly unusual for her to be by herself, she found it a little more uneasy this time. By the time the Tres arrived with Abel and William she was finally calmed down from the amount of pacing she had done and was graciously seated on a chair, hands crossed her lap. There wasn't a smile on her face, a grim reminder of their situation.

"Close the door and take a seat, we need to deal with this problem as quickly as possible," she motioned at the small couch and chairs the surrounded her delicate tea table and two of the three men obliged. As usual Tres remained standing, probably a wise idea due to his weight and the fragile nature of the furniture. There was a cold silence in the room as the men waited for Caterina to speak and Caterina waited to gain the courage to say what she needed to say.

Meanwhile, as the tension mounted, Delacroix found himself waiting outside the room. One hand remained cuffed to the intricate lattice work below the chair and he mused on how much of a joke it was. Any other day he would have simply removed himself from the offending ring of steel but not this day. Part of him wished to be inside the room, listening to that glorious woman agonizing over the position he'd put her in... And as sexy as that might be, he knew it was not his place. No, he would be content to sit in his chair and watch as people passed by, ignoring him easily.

That was part of his charm. Nobody ever took a second look at him. He wasn't particularly good looking, or terrifying like two of his brothers, but he didn't have the ability to completely remove himself from people's sight like the youngest of his kin. Instead, he simply didn't call attention. If people cared to look close enough at him they'd see the sharp row of teeth and see the horns. But nobody looked close.

Pausing, he leaned back in his seat, his cuffed hand hanging down nonchalantly as he watched the crowds. Despite his hatred for the situation he'd be unsealed into he did have to admit, it was nice to be free. The ability to simply sit and people watch while awaiting your fate was something he'd missed without realizing it. It was strange to think that he'd gotten used to being stuck in a book.

"Excuse me?" a voice pulled at him, rending him from his introspective thoughts. Pausing, perplexed, he turned to face the speaker and was a bit taken aback from what he saw. It was a girl with a face he hadn't seen before running around the Vatican, and he would have remembered this one. Red hair so bright he thought he'd burn if he touched it and eyes the most contrary color of blue he had ever seen on a human. Her slight waif of a form was dressed in an AX nun's uniform and the hint of her petticoats from under the skirt made him wish to push the stiff fabric aside to the silk nylons underneath and rip his cuff from the chair to push her against a wall and just stare into those eyes, one hand on her thigh, the other tangled in her hair.

Instead, he simply smiled at her.

"Yes? What can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly, his voice belying the darker impulses inside his head. He'd really be sealed up for too long.

"I haven't seen you around here," she commented and he smiled. Her voice was stunning, achingly delicate and just like he'd imagined it. Slowly his grin spread across his face until he seems almost dumb by the expression.

"That would be because I'm new here, darling," he replied, voice settling into more honeyed tones. She gave a bright smile and took the seat next to him outside the Duchess's room.

"And you're sitting here all alone? That can't do," she crossed her ankles modestly and he longed to part them just as fast. Delicate ankles leading down to perfectly pristine heels with scalloped edges decorated in silver thread.

"Oh, I am waiting," he replied, "I won't be alone much longer." Delacroix glanced away to keep his eyes from roving on her any longer but when she spoke again he could tell she feels a little jilted by the hurt in her voice.

"Well, that's good I suppose," she said, her cheerful voice masked the fact that she suffered from the cold shoulder of the sickly man before her. She made as if to stand, hands planted firmly on the edges of her chair but she doesn't. Instead she sits there tense before Delacroix backtracked hastily.

"But! But I'd like to have some company while I wait," he admitted. She turned back to him and smiled.

"I'd be more than willing to oblige. I'm waiting for a friend, you see," she explained in a conspiratorial whisper, "He's in a meeting with the Duchess Caterina. Are you waiting to talk to her as well?"

"You could say that," Delacroix shrugged, accepting the excuse. Hidden from her sight by his body and the chair, his left hand dissolved into the shadows and the cuff around his wrist fell through. Once free the shadows took the shape of his hand once more and he reached over and gently folded his hands on his lap.

"Are you new to the Vatican?" she asked, keeping up the pleasant conversation as he stared ahead. The image of him ripping the pale stockings from her achingly milky skin was still burned in his vision but he remained quiet on that thought. A quick clearing of the throat readied him to speak without an embarrassing quiver in his voice.

"No, I have been here before many times when I was younger," he admitted. As silly as it might have seemed to people who knew of his devilish nature, he could not lie. A long standing fail safe against any true evil, it's hard to forcibly tempt someone without lies. Instead, they must be willing to head down the road to sin being fully able to understand what they are getting into. A stupid failsafe if you ask him. None-the-less, he learned to word himself carefully.

"Oh? What did you think of it when you were younger?" she asked pleasantly and he once more shrugged, now a bit apathetic. Last time he had been here, their nuns certainly didn't look like the divine apparition next to him.

"I was not here under the best circumstances," he admitted, then gave a small smile at his own inside joke, "Very much like how I am here now." This seems to shock the girl as she tries to validate his claim, or at least understand how somebody so… polite… could be under scrutiny of the Vatican. "Though I do admit, the sights have improved."

He meant the women of the Vatican, though she simply assumed that perhaps the halls were cleaner now, or the weather was better. One of her heels began to anxiously tap the marble flooring before she stood and held out a hand to him.

"I've been rather rude," she announced and cocked a slim eyebrow at her.

"Oh? You've been nothing but gracious to me this entire time," he replied but she shook her head and he watched her red hair sway with the movement and again his fingers ached to run through each individual fiery strand.

"I haven't even introduced myself! You must think I'm terrible!!"

He laughed at the sight of her, all flustered over something so trivial to him but she took his humour as an agreement that she had indeed been rude. Grasping the hem of her skirts she gave a small curtsy and he stood to bow. After those formalities were seen to she stood, brushed off the white fabric of her habit and smiled the most gloriously nice smile he'd seen in a long time. Of course, all he'd seen was the inside of a book's sealing dimension… and other demons. Hardly the best selection of smiles and teeth, if he was anything to judge on.

"My name is Sister Esther Blanchett." He smiled.

"Delacroix."

She paused, she waited, as though expecting something and then grew something impatient. He gave her a look that said "And…??" and she pounced on it.

"You're name just can't be Delacroix," she demanded, taking a step towards him and he stumbled back, acting effectively intimidated at her advances. "I told you my name, please tell me yours," she took yet another step forward and he tumbled back into the seat he was in only moments ago. He had to fight to keep the slow grin of spreading across his face as he shrugged, giving in.

"Alright already… my first name is Asmondeus," he said his true name easily, relishing in hearing it tumble from his lips and she paused, trying to figure out how to pronounce it or perhaps what it's origin was.

"Asmondeus-" She might have tried to say more but instantly the shadow from under Delacroix surged and rushed up from the ground, wrapping around his right wrist and more importantly… around her own slender wrist. Giving a cry of surprise, Delacroix was grateful that the traffic in the hallway had ceased, leaving them alone, and watched as she struggled to push the amorphous darkness off to no avail.

With a loud clang of metal he felt spikes enter his skin and he gave a small hiss, while Esther let loose a pained scream. Unlike him, he assumed, she was not used to having thorns tearing into her skin at all times. Settling to their intended form, the shadows became think silver cuffs like manacles, on their left wrists. Seeping from under the metal was Ether's blood. It dripped down her ivory skin to the marble below and he smiled.

The doors to Caterina's room slammed open in response to Ether's crying and the Duchess and the three men stood stark still before the scene. Kneeling over her injured wrist, Esther was sobbing in pain as blood dripped down and stained her dress crimson while Delacroix watched, an inky substance trickled down his own wrist. He paused and glanced to Caterina before smiling.

"You were taking so long…I claimed my own master," he explained with juxtaposed cheeriness, holding up his arm to show off the thick cuff embedded into his flesh, "Aren't you going to thank me?"

There was an immediate rush to remove Esther from his presence by Abel who held her protectively in his arms while Delacroix watched in amusement. He made to step forward to take her back but found the twin guns of Tres aimed at his head. Sighing, he crossed his arms.

"I see you don't approve. Regardless I've made my contract with her and if I don't get to her soon, her pain will only get worse," he explained calmly as he started down the barrels of the guns.

"Why is she in pain in the first place!? Why did you choose her??" the professor asked, frustrated and confused with the decision. Shifting his weight to his other foot, the demon simply cross his arms and sighed in a dramatic manner, looking more like a bored teenager weathering through a lecture than anything else.

"Because, dear professor, she was there. I have no interest in pure souls so you should be pleased," he answered in a dull tone, "Now let me tend to her before this situation gets out of control. After all, _I_ have all the time in the world to spare… but does she?" he asked, holding up the wrist that contained the manacle and glanced at the inky fluid that began to twine down his arm and stain the white sleeve of his shirt. There was a pause before Caterina gave a nod.

"No! He's the one who caused this problem, he'll only make it worse," Abel debated, holding Esther closer to him.

"Really? Let me explain, right now that manacle is pouring out her life force, and her soul, to me," the demon pointed at the hand that Esther cradled and the blood that pooled out and stained the middle of her habit bright crimson. "It's my duty to seal it before things get out of hand. I must care for the life of my master now," he explained.

"Why should I believe you'd do something as foolish as give yourself in servitude to a human?" Abel bantered back but the demon just smiled.

"That's how it works, that's how it always works," Delacroix drawled, crossing his arms in a bored manner. If there was a wall nearby, he might have lounged against it. "I don't mean to forsake millennia of tradition just because I get bored of it. So let me tend to the girl."

A horrible silence passes, enjoyed only by Delacroix who was patiently waiting for the inevitable. Abel glanced between the monstrous man before him and Esther's whimpering form before bowing his head.

"So? Shall you lead me and the girl to the infirmary? No doubt she'll be exhausted after this whole ordeal and I would hate my contractor to sleep on the cold floor," the demon gave a sickly sweet smile before Abel stalked off to the medical ward.

"If you so much as harm her…" he threatens the man, eyes sharply glaring over the tips of his glasses and the demon only laughs.

"Why would I harm her?? My whole purpose is to CARE for her, tend to her every whim and every need until the day I take my price," Delacroix replied innocently as they walked through the large doorway of the medical ward. Nurses rushed to help attend to Esther but stopped dead at the expression between the two men, one side full of utter hatred, the other a casual indifference. The nurses slinked off back to their duties, still hovering in the area until the curtains were drawn around the pair.

"Do you mind?" The demon cast a rueful glance at Abel who simply stared him down.

"Yes. I do. Whatever you plan on doing you can do in front of me," he replied bluntly, arms crossed over his chest and his eyes lacking the usual bumbling, nice-guy expression he normally touted.

"Ah… of course…" Delacroix mumbled lightly to himself, rubbing his thin hands together and blowing onto the fingers as though they were chilled. Leaning closer to Esther he heard her give a low, pained groan before smiling and placing one hand onto her manacle, the other over her heart. Slowly he began to mutter in a language that can only be described as dark and no matter how hard Abel tried to listen to the words he couldn't pick out where one phrase ended and another began. The whole experience sounded inexplicably dark and soggy.

Then under the skeletal hands of the demon a dark blue light flashed and settled, leaving the metal on the manacle imbedded with a thick, scrolling design. A similar sigil appeared on Delacroix's own cuff and he gave a satisfied nod before taking an amiable seat next to the bed.

"What did you do?" Abel asked, though his voice indicated a lack of any curiosity, instead a fierce worry about the wellbeing of the girl. Sighing, Delacroix waved a hand through the air and gave a simpering smile.

"Finished my work. The bleeding has stopped, and so has the pain. In time your lovely darling will not even notice the thorns of the manacle," he replied, voice sickeningly innocent as he crossed his legs and proceeded to watch the girl. "Because you idiots felt the need to 'save' her there was more damage than expected, so she will not wake until later, after the shock has subsided."

"YOU are the one who put this shock on her! She didn't want this!!" Abel argued, his voice rising but all he received was a dull sigh.

"She asked for my name, my _real_ name. That's all it takes."

Another heavy pause passed between the men and Abel's gaze fell upon the sleeping Esther. True to the demon's word, the bleeding had stopped and her manacled hand now fell to her side on the bed. Her expression no longer was filled with pain but the relief of sleep and it pained him to think that perhaps, just perhaps, his helping her had kept her from all of this. Then he remembered the consequences of making a contract and once more his expression hardened as he turned to the demon. It was infuriating, the infernal creature just sat there calmly like a relative awaiting a sick aunt's recovery.

"If you so much as harm her…" he threatened and the demon laughed in cold, mocking tones that hung dead in the air.

"You'll what? Take care of me like you take care of those silly vampires? I'd love to see you try.. no… I'd _BEG_ to see you try."

The urge to punch the demon overwhelmed Abel for a second before he rationed it away. It would hardly serve to start a fight with Esther recovering nearby and he doubted the man would play fair. If worse came to worse he would bet that Delacroix would use Esther as tool to barter peace. Knowing that if he stayed longer he would have to fight the demon he left but cast one last look over his shoulder. "I'll be back first thing tomorrow. She had better be alright."

"Of course, now run little boy," Delacroix drawled, shooing him away with a curt wave of the hand and Abel stalked from the medical wing. He couldn't take the man down that night, but he vowed he would be the one to bring him down eventually. Even if it took everything he had. Esther didn't deserve to be shackled to such a monstrosity and he prayed that it wouldn't be long before she was free again.

"What a rude man…" Delacroix noted to himself as he watched the silver haired priest leave, "In my day none of the priests looked or acted as such," he noted to the unconscious Esther as he shook his head. The girl wouldn't wake easily but he was anything but impatient. Folding his hands on his lap he bowed his head as though in prayer and slowly he became deathly still. Though he feigned sleep his mind was anything but dormant but he found every though plagued with the nagging feeling that nobody feared him anymore. Nobody read the old texts, nobody cared and nobody cowered. He had to bind himself to a woman against her will all on a whim.

"…" There wasn't a sound in the room but Delacroix's eyes snapped open. Esther was awake. A glance at the clock let him know that it was late into the day now and the sun, which had previously hung low to the horizon, now was on the opposite end of the world. She didn't stir at first but then slowly she lifted a slender wrist to her forehead as though to cool it. He watched the cool silver light of dusk wash over her porcelain skin hungrily and his gaze made her nervous enough to glance about. Finally her bright blue eyes settled on him and he bowed his head politely.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, his tone gracious and polite, soft spoken despite the darker thoughts that dwelled in his head.

"…" she didn't respond, her eyes fell to the manacle around his wrist and he glanced down before turning his gaze to hers.

"Yes. That happened. I am sorry you had to feel the pain I usually try and seal the contract before there is any lasting damage," he explained politely, pale eyes cast downward demurely. Try as he might to calm her, she slowly felt enraged and seized the first thing near her bed and threw it at him. The glass of water shattered on a wall of shadows and dripped down to the floor as the darkness lowered to reveal the wry smile on Delacroix's face.

"Is my master not pleased?" he asked his tone slowly sliding from civil to snide as the sneer worked its way at the corners of his mouth revealing the shark like teeth.

"NO. Your 'master' is NOT pleased!' she snapped at him reaching for the next thing to throw but found the night table's surface devoid of anything else. Running a hand over the wood as though pleading for another projectile she was surprised when she turned around to see the glass mended and holding some more water sitting next to her hand.

"Care to try again darling? I can do this all night if it pleases you."

She stared at the smug, delicate, sickly face and felt fury. Righteous fury, mind you, clawed its way up from her heart to her throat and finally out of her mouth in the form of a loud shriek. Lunging from her bed she was a figure of wrath with her skinny form and billowing medical gown. One finger just barely brushed past his nose before she felt her body stop in mid air as though caught by countless hands. Glancing around, she saw that from under her feet the shadows had reached up to wrap around her, holding her back still a foot off the ground. With a weary sigh Delacroix waved a hand and her arms were forced out by her sides leaving her mockery of the crucifix, a girl pinned in the air by shadows.

"Now now now…. We can't have this can we??" he teased her. "But you have such a wonderful spirit. Here I was thinking I had made a mistake not taking that Duchess of yours as my own but… there is such a _fire_ in you!!"

"Let me GO!" she howled and he only laughed louder. "Abel will be coming to find me and when he does…" she threatened him, her gaze turning to a sour glare but his merriment only grew.

"He'll WHAT!? Little girl you are mine just as sure as you said my name. Why not ENJOY it! I can give you power, I can give you any man you desire. Just say the word and I'll make it true!" he waved a hand at her but her next words surprised him.

"I want you to _disappear!" _she spat and he paused and glanced at her in surprise. Then the restraints that had contained her disappeared as fast as they had arrived as was he. Just as Abel burst into the room he found her kneeling on the marble floors, rubbing her shackled wrist, alone. As the rush from the confrontation left her she found tears welling up in her eyes and her breath absent from her lungs. Frantic eyes glanced around the room, searching for Delacroix but it was empty now save for her and Abel.

"What happened?!" Abel asked, kneeling next to her as she leaned against him and sobbed softly into the black cloth of his jacket.

"…He's gone…" she whispered, relieved as he helped her to stand and led her to bed.

"Gone? Just like that?" he asked, scanning the room just as nervously as her and she nodded.

"I… I told him to disappear," Esther's voice was gaining strength as she sat on the bed, one hand held to her head as though she was fighting an epic headache. The manacle seemed achingly heavy and even though it was present at least the demon was not. Shivering as she slipped her legs between the sheets of the bed she gave Abel her best smile trying to convey strength and she was surprised to find just that welling up in her. She had MADE him disappear.

"That's all it took?" Abel asked, simultaneously incredulous, suspicious and impressed. Esther nodded as she leaned against the pillow and crossed her arms over her hips. Both let the silence fall between them, unsure of what to do.

"Will he come back?" she finally asked the question that had been gnawing at her since he had so quickly left. Unsure of how to respond Abel passed the time by fiddling with his glasses, endlessly polishing the lenses over and over. What could he tell her? That he wasn't sure? That the demon could be just biding his time until he devours her without warning? They possibilities ranged from wonderful to grim and he decided to be honest.

"I don't know. But we can hope, can't we?"

With the flash of a reassuring smile he patted her on the head and left to find the Professor. He might remember reading up on demons disappearing and like. Left alone in the room Esther watched him leave forlornly. She had wanted his company at least a little longer but she could guess where he was going and it was sweet. Even if it left her lonely. Leaning back in her bed she closed her eyes trying to catch some sleep and sort out her thoughts and as she began to drift off to bed she thought she heard a voice singing gently in her room.

_"Tiiime… is on my side… oh yes, Esther… it is…"_

_-_Well, this chapter ended up longer than I had anticipated but longer is better, right? Please review and let me know how I am doing, as an English Major I enjoy getting feedback. Also, give some love to my beta reader SMCandy and to my friends who let me bounce plot ideas off them. See you next chapter!


	3. In Which A Shot Is Fired

-AN: Sorry for the long wait, to those who were waiting, medical problems and stress from my classload were enough to keep me away from any creative ventures that wouldn't get a college career defining grade. I'm back now and hope you enjoy. And as per usual, I don't own any Trinity Blood characters.

Dawn was breaking as Esther woke from the ordeal of the night before, her head aching something fierce. A loud groan escaped from her lips, pale from the stress, as she reached up to place a reassuring hand on her forehead. Her arm felt heavier than usual, weighed down by the thick metal cuff that was sealed around her wrist and she sighed.

"So it did happen," she muttered, frustrated. It was far easier to be happy if she could have just dismissed the whole ordeal. The nurses were leaving her be, perhaps to let her have time to think but she wanted company more than anything. Her old stained dress was missing but a crisp new uniform was folded and ready for her on the chair next to her bed.S she threw her legs over the edge of the bed and let them dangle for a second, staring at the floor tiles and her own shadow that was cast out directly below her in a small circle.

_Nothing ever comes from sitting around_, she reminded herself before sliding off the bed to stand and walking over to her dress. Snatching it off the arms of the chair she strode confidently out of her small curtained room and to the full bathroom attached to the medical wing, where at least she expected the solitude. Locking the door behind her she began to unbutton the front of her gown as she filled the small bath with water. The room was just as sterile as the medical ward, filled only with a sink, a toilet and a bath. It was there to give patients a chance to clean up before leaving.

Letting the gown drop to the floor she cast a glance to herself in the mirror. Her face was unusually pale but it could be attributed to the blood loss from earlier. She didn't remember much, the pain was so intense, but she did remember seeing her blood. In fact, all she could think about was the crimson that had filled her vision during that time. Running a hand over her face she let his fingers travel down her neck, to her collarbones and then she stopped as they reached her chest. Over her heart was an unfamiliar mark and she felt her blood grow cold as she ran a hand over it over and over. Emblazoned on her pale skin a mark that could have been considered an ink stain it was so pitch black but it was not simply a mass of darkness but a delicate sigil.

Frustration grew in her as she stared the mark down in the mirror before she quickly turned on her heel and stalking to the bathtub. She wasn't going to let something as silly as a mark ruin her mood. After all, if she did that she might as well give into the smug bastard from earlier. Easing into the water she scrubbed off the small bits of blood and grime that the medical attendants had missed and tried in vain to remove the manacle. Just pushing at the thing caused a small shiver of pain as she felt the spikes that rimmed the inside tug a little at her skin. It was easy to fall into the thinking that the nightmare was over, or just that. A nightmare. A product of an overactive imagination from working with Methuselah everyday. No matter how much she toyed with that idea in her mind she was brought back to hope shattering reality whenever she felt the heavy weight on her wrist.

It was an inelegant cuff and looked as though it was made of silver, long scuffed and tarnishing to a dirty, metallic black. There was no key to unlock it and no way to remove it; it seemingly was a never ending circle of metal. She thought back to how it was applied and remembered the rush of shadows around her body as she spoke the man's name.

"Never again," she vowed to herself. She'd never say his real name again, just in case somebody else was dumb enough to try and make a contract. Or whatever she had been pulled into. Closing her eyes she leaned back against the warmed porcelain of the bathtub and slipped a little lower under the water until it lapped against her chin. She lost count of the time in which she spent there, water warming her down to her soul but when she opened her eyes again the water had chilled and goose bumps were spreading up her neck and across her shoulders.

Pushing herself out of the bathtub she let the water leave cold trails down her skin as she stepped lightly across the tile to reach her towel, wrapping it around her body after toweling off the worst of the wetness before taking another to envelop her short hair up in it to dry in a makeshift turban. Gazing at herself once more in the mirror she was pleased to note that the mark was not visible while all wrapped up. Humming a small song to herself she began the process of dressing herself in the spare uniform provided by the medical wing and by the time she affixed her habit to her head her hair was already dry. One couldn't even tell she was contracted.

Pausing to glance around, she checked to see if Delacroix was indeed simply waiting in the shadows but saw nothing. Shrugging she stepped towards the door, opening it at the exact same moment a gloved white hand went to knock on it. It stopped just before the tip of her nose and she blinked before looking up the arm to see Abel standing there, somewhat nervous as usual.

"Oh! You're done!" he was taken aback by her sudden appearance and swiftly placed his hand back at his side. "Are you feeling alright??"

"Yes. I'm fine. What is it?" she asked, brushing aside his thoughts on her wellbeing easily. She didn't look ill or sickly, so why should he worry? Adjusting the hem of her skirt she waited for him to talk. It took only a second before he began to try and speak.

"I was told to inform you of a new mission but I told Caterina it was cruel to send you on a mission while you are still recoveri-" He wasn't able to say much more before Esther poked him firmly in the chest and gave him what should have been a trademarked stare full of serious intent or the like but was ruined by her usual cheerful smile.

"Did you think I'd LET you go running off by yourself? I followed you on missions I didn't even have, no luck on getting me to decline one thanks to a small issue," she said lightly, even though the heavy burden of the manacle weighed down on her chest. Still she smiled just as energetically as ever she hooked her arm around his and started to lead him away. "So what are we doing?"

"…" Stunned by her willingness to go back into work Abel dismisses it as a coping mechanism and sighs, adjusting his glasses, "Simple, we just need to check the streets. Nothing too hard." Silently he vowed to himself that he wouldn't _let_ anything heavy happen. As Esther jovially walked in front of him he found himself analyzing her movements to see if she was truly hiding sorrow or pain from the recent events in those bouncy steps and light smile. Try as he might he could not tell the difference between this Esther and the one from before, the one who wasn't chained to a monster.

He then gave a short laugh to himself, wondering if there was really a difference between the two. After all, she worked with him on a daily basis. As usual his thoughts seemed to drift unbidden down a darker path but were abruptly shaken from their holdings in the shadows when he realized he had been walking out of the Vatican with Esther without so much as saying a word to her. As he opened his mouth to comment on something mundane (and would later curse himself for, of all things, noting how nice the weather was) he caught something odd. For a second Esther's shadow seemed to be the spindly form of man. A quick blink later and it was back to the dark cut-out of the Vatican dress and Esther's own delicate frame.

Despite himself he sped up a little to catch up with the eager Esther, his long legs aiding the movement drastically as he caught up to her quickly. He tapped a foot against the shadow trailing behind her but his foot met nothing but pavement. Satisfied that it was just his imagination he noted the dim twilight sky and sighed.

"It _is_ stunning, isn't it?" Esther noted in reply his sigh, thinking it was not out of exasperation but out of awestruck beauty. Catching up on the sudden conversation Abel managed to nod his head before she spoke up again. "I really do count myself lucky for being here and getting to meet such amazing people." She gave a small glance over to Abel when she said this but he didn't notice.

"And we are all lucky to have you," he replied earnestly as they moved from the large walls surrounding the Vatican into the city that surrounded it. There was a heavy silence between the two as both tried to find conversation that veered away from the obvious problem. As they turned down another street corner Esther cleared her throat but Abel was the one to speak.

"How can you be so calm?" he asked her, addressing the elephant in the room that had been following after them with all the weight of it substantial kin.

"…" she did not reply immediately but instead clasped her hands behind her and glanced up, the scarlet sky reflected in her glassy eyes before she glanced away from the sunset and shrugged. "Because there is nothing I can do about it. To be honest… I just don't think about it because if I do… I become terrified." She placed a hand above her heart, glancing down to stare at it. She knew the dark mark was under the pristine white bodice, just under her fingertips. "… A cold lump settles here and refuses to move. And I can't even breathe it gets so heavy."

As she spoke Abel couldn't bring himself to interrupt, even as she paused and bit her lip. For a second her normally radiant face was shadowed in harsh sadness before she shook her head and her tender hand clenched into a fist. Loudly exhaling, she then gave a smile and turned to Abel, the lasting remnants of possible tears still shimmering in her eyes.

"But then I remember that everybody deserves a second chance. After all I can never judge somebody until I at least see to it that they try to change. That is what the bible teaches us after all. Everybody deserves a chance for redemption and I would be a terrible nun if I judged even the dirtiest soul without trying to save it," she spoke defiantly and Abel's mood changed from dour to pleased.

"If anybody can do it, it would be you," he admitted, patting a hand down on her head before he started down their path again, unable to see how his words of support added to the hope in Esther's eyes.

"Really?" she asked, hurrying to catch up with him and regretting her choice in heels that were strangely standard with the female AX uniform. Nodding his head Abel did not elaborate but secretly enjoyed the idea of even demons getting second chances. Silence passed between the two of them as they walked through the city and the twilight gave way to lamplight and starlight. Words were passed between them to be sure but simple conversation about the state of the AX, rumors about the members and normal business talk.

To be truthful neither of them entirely enjoyed performing rounds but it was a welcome amount of normalcy and Abel found himself guiltily remembering how he almost wanted to deprive Esther of it. It seemed so obvious now that what Esther really needed was not bed-rest but something, anything, to keep her busy. If that meant walking through the twilight soaked city every night he would never speak a word of complaint no matter the weather or his own state of exhaustion.

"Oh I'm quite sure," he nodded his head as he pressed forward. Their conversation seemed to lull but it was far more pleasant this time around, a mutual consent to enjoy each other's silence. Lamplight bathed the bricks around them in a warm light and Esther found herself not looking around in paranoia. Good company tended to ease a person's spirit.

Of course good company only goes so far. As the duo turned down another alley a sound shattered the peace like a rock chucked into placid lake. Gunshots rang out amidst the cobblestones and Abel spun around in time to see Esther's body falling backwards. Worst fears confirmed he caught her first but was surprised to find no blood staining her white bodice, only small holes marking where the bullet's wounds should have been.

Disregarding the lack of injury he looked up to find a rather cheesy looking Methuselah standing at the entry to the alleyway holding a standard issue gun. In fact one would assume he's a bit part character and Abel felt mostly offended that Esther would get shot by such a lame creature. Apparently he wasn't the only one who thought so. Before Abel could move a familiar voice rang through the air, though it failed to wake Esther who remained limp but unharmed in Abel's arms.

"SONOFABITCH!" a voice roared into the night and filled the brick alley with raucous echoes. From beneath the sprawling form of Esther her shadows began to writhe and twist, detaching from her and twisting upwards like wet silk. Just barely the familiar pale face could be seen amidst the mass of darkness.

"I was sleeping very well mind you and LOOK!!" a hand slipped out from the darkness and a thick inky substance dripped from the thin fingers like watered down tar and oozed along the stones below him. "I can't leave that blasted woman alone for 5 seconds before somebody decides to shoot her!?" Sharp teeth flashed in the lamplight as his face contorted in frustration and the shadows shifted subtly into the basic outline of a dark suit. It only took him two impossibly long steps before he reached the Methuselah who turned to ran but found his hair grasped in the claws of Delacroix who forced the man down to his knees in seconds.

Turning away from what promised to be a gruesome scene Abel instead turned his attention to Esther whose face was untroubled in unconciousness. Running a hand across her stomach he settled on the holes in her bodice in a mixed state of confusion and horror. To the background soundtrack of unearthly screams and various sounds that can only be described as "wet" Abel checked the young woman over for any injury but couldn't find a single one. Not even a drop of blood.

Just as suddenly as the commotion started the noise stopped and Abel froze, wondering if he even wanted to look towards the demon. Deciding he was never the coward when protecting others, and seeing as how Esther was down for the count she certainly needed protecting, he slowly looked over to the end of the alley. Standing calmly on the cobblestones was the dark figure of Delacroix calmly licking the last vestiges of blood daintily from the tips of his fingers with a thin, catlike tongue. There was no body, no blood, just the man standing there against the light of the street lamps looking tidy as a pin as he cleaned himself off. Abel sat there watching him, it, carefully before his eyes darted over to him and he gave a close approximation to a sheepish smile, ruined by the sharp teeth.

"Ah… forgive my temper. Is the lady alright?" he simpered, taking a few steps forward but immediately Abel slid Esther gently to the floor and was standing, blocking the demon's path to Esther effectively with his own impressive frame. He took pleasure in the fact that he was far taller the monster approaching. It didn't seem to daunt the creature who paused and gave a curious tilt of his head. A subtle something passed over his vivid eyes, almost as though he was offended but it passed just as quickly. "I am just worried, _padre."_

"And you've done damn well enough harm!" Abel shot back, standing his ground firmly, boots pressed against the stones. Surprisingly it stopped the demon from moving and he held a hand to his stomach as he paused. Then slowly a noise began to claw its way up his throat, a strangled sort of sound that bubbled forth like a nasty witches brew and exploded into a peal of laughter that seemed somehow… off. There wasn't any joy or emotion in the laugh, just empty noise.

"Harm? Is my master in any way injured?? Perhaps you'd rather she get shot? I can returned the bullets to her if you wish," he sneered and when he smiled small balls of metal could be seen clenched between his teeth before he spat them to the side as though they were sunflower seed shells. "She'll wake up fine, it was just the shock that stunned her."

"And you won't be around when she wakes," Abel stated, his voice grave enough to lightly hint at a threat but this only made the demon smile wider. Sliding up to Abel in a liquid motion too smooth to belong to any human Delacroix seemed hardly miffed that Abel towered over him and simply craned his neck to get a better look at where Esther was resting on the cobblestones.

"I don't take orders from you, kid, I want to hear my master speak it," he purred richly and his thin tongue darted across his lips eagerly but his view was immediately blocked by Abel who took another step to stand directly in front of the demon.

"You will leave if you know what is best for you."

Pausing an odd expression shifted over Delacroix's face and the features themselves seemed to waver like cloth over the top of water before he gave an eerie approximation of a smile. Taking numerous small steps backwards to distance himself from Abel the thin framing of his suit faded until he was just a face and a pair of hands emerging from a black cutout in the shape of human being before he solidified again.

"Should I fear you??" he simpered before pulling his hand away from his stomach, the palm coated in a slick black fluid that dripped onto the bricks below their feet and disappeared into the shadows of the grout. "Would you eliminate me like just another pathetic vampire?? Continue in your silly little quest? I wonder…" Casting Abel a sly sideways glance he ran his tongue along the side of his hand, leaving a trail of pale skin in its wake, "… would I taste as good or better?" Dissolving into a bright cackle he doubled over his knees and stifled it with his hand.

When the noise finally stopped he straightened himself out, his mouth smeared with the inky substance and he paused. Giving Abel a sober stare he didn't bother to clean his face off and small bits of it dribbled down his chin. As he stood there, a sickly juxtaposition of pale flesh and unnatural darkness he looked strangely small. Only the rhythmic sound of liquid dripping from his stomach reached Abel's ears but somehow it was deafening. Without any pomp or circumstance the man seemed to fade like a bad afterimage and then he was gone again, not even leaving a trace of his existence.

Giving an involuntary shiver Abel felt the tightness in his chest lessen with the absence of the demon and he turned back to Esther. Beneath her sprawled form her shadow could be seen once more in its rightful place and with a sigh he gently picked her up from the ground. In the stark silence he carried her back to the Vatican. He'd get somebody to finish their rounds, if nothing to get Esther a chance to recover.

He couldn't bring himself to leave her in the medical ward and thought it best to lay her down in her own bed. Placing her head gently on her pillow he sighed, feeling utterly powerless. His fingertips trailed softly down the side of her face, tracing the delicate jaw line tenderly before he finally managed to pull away. Pausing he pulled his hand away and bowed his head.

"I'll find a way to fix this," he muttered to himself before chastely patting her forehead before leaving the room. Closing the door behind himself he hurried off to report the incomplete rounds, leaving Esther once more in the shadows.

Esther stirred seconds after the door was closed to hear a soft voice whispering in her ear. Unable to figure out what it was saying at first she shivered as she felt the hot breath wash down her jaw line leaving a soft scent of spices. All around the voice wasn't unpleasant but instead tender mellow tone softly calling her.

"Esther…"

She didn't stir until she felt cool tips of fingers pressing gentle tracks down her cheeks. Eyes snapping open she spun around on the mattress to see glassy blue eyes staring at her. Immediately she was across the side of the room, taking a portion of the sheets with her, clutched to her heaving chest. Sprawled out over the partially covered mattress was the thin figure of Delacroix, sprawled out like a content cat.

"I know you didn't want to see me but I feel you owe me some thanks," he purred, sitting up in a liquid motion that sent shivers down her spine. There was a sort of grace in him that belied his inhuman nature, as no creature of god could move so… perfectly.

"I don't owe you anything," she spat, heart pounding in her chest in the blink of an eye he had crossed the threshold of the bed and directly in front of her.

Breath catching in her chest, Esther felt the steady force of his hand pressed against her stomach over the tattered bodice of her dress. Through the holes in the fabric she could feel his skin, as smooth as glass on a winter's night. Hi face slid softly next to hers and as he spoke she could feel his lips gently tickling against her earlobe.

"I bled for you," he hissed, fingers wiggling through the gaps in her dress. Against the chill of his flesh her muscles tightened and pushed back against him, willing him to leave her alone.

"I thought I told you to leave."

"Oh… you did but would you rather I let you die??"

For a second there was a pause, the air between the pair electric. He longed to advance further, tearing her dress asunder easily with his fingers but her own force of will kept his hand steadily at her stomach. Grinning to himself he relished in her own control over his movements, even though she was unaware.

"I'd rather you leave me alone," she stated, her voice clipped and formal as she tried to keep any of her emotion from leaking into the words but it only made his grin spread wider. In a blink his face was millimeters away from her own, filling her nose with a fiery odour. Wondering to herself how such a cold body could give of such a warm scent she almost hysterically laughed aloud but the atmosphere stifled any noise from her throat again.

Up close she noticed the most unnerving thing about him. It was the eyes. Their colour lacked all striations of a conventional eye and instead was the same glacial hue throughout the vivid iris, the pupil a bare pinprick of a slit. Worst of all, she noticed he didn't blink. When he finally did it was a forced motion, lacking all natural ease. It was the conscious attempt to appear human that made him all the more eerie.

"As long as you bear my mark I'm afraid I'm here to stay. Make this easy on yourself… give me a wish to grant," he murmured, his voice coming from a gravelly part of his throat . Absently his free hand slid down her shoulder to her breast, just above heart. Esther's breath caught in her chest as she felt the sigil flare against his touch through the fabric.

"I wish you would go aw-"

"Ah ah ah.. darling we've played this game already," he tapped a finger against her bottom lip, effectively interrupting her mid word. "Come on, there must be something you want?"

"GO AW-"

"Don't EVER say that again, you WASTE my time," he roared.

In an instant she felt her body slam against the wall again and his delicate face was suddenly a portrait of rage. Fingers shredded the bodice like wet tissue paper while the other hand wove through her short hair tightly, keeping her head back. Unable to look anywhere but his cold eyes she tried her best to muster up her courage but found that even her training was failing in the face of his rage.

As the remains of the top of her habit fell to the floor small bumps raised up upon her exposed skin. Strangely detached as she felt his hands ease the back of the dress away from her skin she heard the soft and steady sound of dripping. In a moment of clarity she cleared her throat.

"Back… Off…" she managed to spit out and much to her surprise she felt his fingers leave her skin, leaving cool trails behind them. Indeed he drew back, letting her feet slide back to the ground startling her. She didn't even know had been off the ground. Shaking she watched as his hands tucked back into the darkness that made up his suit and his expression settled to an impassive, unblinking stare.

He doesn't move, initially, just waits for her inches away. Breathing slowing down as her heart stopped it's frantic pace, Esther let loose a breath she wasn't aware she was holding and covered her exposed self carefully with her hands. Stepping lightly to the bed she ripped off the fitted sheet and used it to return her modesty before Delacriox made a noise. It was just a low chuckle but it was infuriating enough.

"And what's so funny?" she hissed and it only made him laugh a little louder. It was a quiet sort of laugh and every single chuckle sounded identical. Like a looped track repeated itself mirthlessly.

"I've seen you dressed in far less," he drawls, head tilting to the side as a grin spread across his face. In the silence that followed there was the slow rhythmic sound of dripping but Esther can't find the source.

"What are you talking about?" she snaps, a blush creeping up her neck and around her ears.

"Silly girl."

"Answer me!"

There was no pause this time or deliberate stalling this time. Just a quick answer.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm your shadow."

Confused Ether glanced down to see that sure enough, a think black line from below her feet raced across the floor to where his own smartly shined shoes were standing.

"I've been with you the entire time, just waiting until needed, you see," he leaned closer to her, legs on either side of hers and a thin tongue ran across his lips. "You could say I'm your most near and dear companion now…" With one hand he guided her down onto the floor and she felt tears well up in her eyes as all her strength was not enough to stop him. In quick darting movements he removed the last tattered shreds of her bodice and worked his hands down the side of her skirting. Shivering and scared she stared into his face as there was no place to move and he smiled.

"I love a woman with a backbone because it's so much more pleasing when it break. I wouldn't normally force you like this but… it's been so very long dear Esther and you are _such_ the tasty little _petit fore_," he nodded his head sympathetically though she just found it mocking. It was only when she felt him tear the skirt from her waist that she began to struggle.

One hand freed itself from his grip and she decked him across the face with every bit of scared strength. His head didn't move nor did his face react, it just seemed to skip for a second, like a bad VCR tape. As she hit him again she felt the resounding contact down her arm but it only made him laugh the mercilessly repeating laugh again.

"Oh dear Esther, we are going to have such a fun time together…" he grinned and she got the distinct impression that this wasn't mean to be a sign of happiness. It was more like an animal barring its fangs. Screaming and struggling she tried to push his face away as he ran his lips across her neck and she felt that thin tongue across her jaw line, leaving a trail of icy saliva.

Scared and helpless she closed her eyes to keep herself from looking at the man as she heard only his laugh and the rustle of her petticoats and they fell open on her tender body. Wishing she was anywhere else she slammed her hands against his chest over and over, begging him to stop. Before he could go any father though she mustered up all the air in her lungs and screamed out for the only person she knew who could help her.

"ABEL!!!" she cried out and in that second the demon paused as she repeated the name again, her voice hoarse from crying.

-AN: Well, that marks the end of another chapter, I hope you had fun reading and will come back again for the next chapter. As I always ask, please review this story, I love any criticism/comments/ideas as I feel that a fanfiction writer, nay any writer, should work with their audience. If you do review I will make it a point to respond to as promptly as possible. Be seeing you.


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